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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27185845">i hope that we can grow up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/procrastinatingbookworm/pseuds/procrastinatingbookworm'>procrastinatingbookworm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hello, I'm good for nothing - will you love me just the same? [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hollow Knight (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Developing Friendships, Gen, Gore, Gross, M/M, Medical Trauma, Worldbuilding, guest perspective: hornet!, people trying to take care of each other despite all being traumatized injured and exhausted, weird gross bug medical care</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:35:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27185845</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/procrastinatingbookworm/pseuds/procrastinatingbookworm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Five bugs in a hot spring, doing their best to take care of each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hornet &amp; Quirrel (Hollow Knight), Hornet &amp; The Knight (Hollow Knight), Quirrel/Tiso (Hollow Knight), The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel &amp; Hornet &amp; Quirrel, The Knight &amp; Quirrel (Hollow Knight)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hello, I'm good for nothing - will you love me just the same? [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>115</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i hope that we can grow up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Contains medical gore, including some pretty gross descriptions, and possible trypophobia triggers. If you don't want to read that, this fic will be summarized in the notes of the next one in the series.</p><p>Thanks to crestofthebeholding for knowing enough medical jargon and having a strong enough stomach to do research for this fic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It shouldn’t feel like a miracle that they make it to the hot springs in one piece.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’ve survived so much already, it seems laughable that they wouldn’t be able to walk a few corridors away without issue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Hornet thanks the gods—some of them, at least—when the telltale glow eats up her vision. She closes her tertiary eyes on instinct—and after a moment of thought, her secondary sets too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a trade-off she thinks is fair—limit the possibility of a headache, and see with her open eyes more clearly, in return for limiting her field of vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s what’s in front of her that’s important, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hollow, her too-big sibling, who she’d resigned herself to losing before she even met them. They shared only a father, a fighting style (courtesy of Hive Queen Vespa) and a burden of responsibility.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had never truly been siblings, no more than weavers shared siblinghood with those that never left the egg sac.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But here they are, breath and heartbeat both unsteady but present, looking up at her as she steps into the hot spring, lowering Hollow’s head and shoulders </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a faint splash as Quirrel jumps into the spring after her, settling Hollow’s legs beneath the water. He stays there a moment, half-crouched, then straightens unsteadily, face taut with pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Hornet says, more softly and sincerely than she means to. “Are you hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Simply world-weary,” Quirrel replies. “I believe you and I are the least in need of medical attention, all things considered. If you’ll lend me some silk, I’ll tend to Ghost’s mask while you assist the Vessel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet obligingly unspools some of her stickier silk, handing it over to Quirrel, before she kneels in the water beside the larger of her siblings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hollow is still staring at her, head dropped just slightly to the side, as though they can’t hold it upright. The dead infection is dripping out of their broken eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Holly,” Hornet says, brushing Hollow’s cloak behind their shoulders to get a good look at the mess of their torso and arm. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet twitches as the sickly sweet smell of infection is drowned out by the stink of rot and decay, but she persists in examining her sibling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few of the pustules are deflated, but most of their left side is still haloed by swollen abscesses, including the entirety of where their arm used to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not to mention the self-inflicted nail wound, already caked in the dull orange remains of the Infection and leaking void.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet’s medical training is rudimentary at best—soul healing is the most beneficial and accessible method of recovery, and it’s been a long time since anyone trusted anyone else with caring for their wounds, but she knows that infection of any kind in open wounds is… bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs, high in her throat, at a loss for what else to do but crouch down, a pad of silk in one hand, and start to clean out the wound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, Holly, you had the right idea… almost. These do need to be popped and drained. I wish you’d done it with something cleaner than your old nail… and perhaps not skewered yourself doing it, but you were on the right path.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the wound is as clean of pus and debris and leaking void as she can manage, Hornet looks up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quirrel is perched on the edge of the spring, with Ghost in his lap, binding the two halves of their mask back together, as Tiso and Ghost themself hold the two halves steady.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You three. Move to the bench,” she says, as evenly as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t argue with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes Quirrel a long time to get up, and Hornet thinks, for a moment, that he’s going to topple over, but he does rise, Ghost hugged against his side—despite them being practically in shade form, and therefore capable of hovering—and Tiso lingering close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turns back to Hollow. “I’m going to make incisions in each of these abscesses and drain them carefully. The spring should negate the loss of soul, but if you need me to stop, alert me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hollow doesn’t nod, but Hornet doesn’t stop to ensure they understand. Every moment passing is a moment that their body is still riddled with open wounds and pustules of infection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cuts the first abscess, up by their shoulder, and pushes them down in the water to clean it, sticking the fingers of her free hand into the hole she’s made to scrape out the mess inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she’s confident that there’s nothing left inside, she moves on to the next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hollow is trembling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So is Hornet, but she keeps working. The infection may have lost the orange tinge of Light, but it’s still </span>
  <em>
    <span>infection</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and it will still kill Hollow if she’s not careful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s about halfway down their side when Hollow convulses, jerking forward in her grasp, breath coming in silent heaves, void clouding around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet sets down her needle, cleaning her fingers off in the spring before taking their hand in both of hers. “You’re doing well, Holly. You’re doing so well. I’m proud of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hollow tilts their head. A streak of orange-brown drips out of the crack in their face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to wash your face,” Hornet says, pushing them down in the water, until their head goes under. She’s not sure how much of their actual </span>
  <em>
    <span>face</span>
  </em>
  <span> is hollow, but it should be enough for the water to go through and wash the infection out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulls them back up, wiping their face with her robe. “Feel better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t respond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready for more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A short nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet picks up her needle, and starts again. Pus and void and chunks of… </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> drift in the water around Hollow, even as the spring does its best to burn away what doesn’t belong. Hornet pauses whenever the detritus grows too thick, letting the water clear, but otherwise pays it no mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except for the fact that she’ll need to burn her robe, later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hollow twitches again, void smoking up from their carapace under Hornet’s touch, so she stops, taking a moment to glance over at the other three.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ghost is starting to reform, their void-self differentiating into cloak and carapace. Their mask seems to be staying held together, despite the slightly messy bandaging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tiso is sprawled out on the bench like a limp Ooma, his good arm draped over his eyes, legs kicked out in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quirrel, by contrast, is curled in on himself like a Baldur, fingers curled into his kerchief. He seems to be trembling slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Understandable reaction, all things considered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Hornet has work to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She punctures and cleans out the rest of the pustules that have taken over her sibling’s body. When that’s done, she cuts away what’s left of the abscesses—all the loose, translucent chitin that had held in the bubbles of infection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wraps them in bandages until her soul is exhausted, until her hands shake on her needle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quirrel, who seems to have composed himself, splashes into the spring beside her. “Do you think we can get them up the well to Dirtmouth?” he asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet sheathes her needle. “We can try.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are houses in the crossroads,” Quirrel doesn’t sound any more than mildly admonishing, but Hornet bristles anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Safe houses?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Assuming the Infection is gone, the crossroads ought to be no less safe than the town,” Quirrel says, not unreasonably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet considers it. “Help me pick them up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quirrel’s shaking as badly as she is, but he lifts Hollow’s legs obligingly, Tiso picks Ghost up from where they’re sitting, and they start to walk again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pass bodies on the way. Long-dead husks, what’s left of the Infection that has sustained them pooled around their bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ghost keeps their nail drawn the whole way, although they meet nothing alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though her arms are full with her sibling, and there’s nothing she can do to defend them if something does happen, Hornet doesn’t dare let her guard down until they’re all seated again, crowded into one of the Crossroads houses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ghost leans their head against Hornet’s, then points upwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet sighs. “If you must, little Ghost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They nod, as if they were actually waiting for her permission, and scamper out, nail drawn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quirrel chuckles softly from where he’s sprawled by the door, Hollow’s legs in his lap, nail in one hand, and a cleaning cloth in the other. “There’s no stopping them, I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet shakes her head, too tired to laugh in turn. “It would be counterproductive if Vessels needed rest,” she says, then makes a face. She sounds like her father.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> need rest,” Tiso says. “And so do you two. You look awful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll sleep in shifts,” Hornet insists. “I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—have done enough,” Quirrel interrupts. “Sleep. I’ll wake you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve done more than me—” Tiso argues.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I ought to—” Hornet says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleep.” Quirrel says, an edge to his voice. “Both of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet does sleep, eventually, to the sound of Quirrel cleaning his nail in steady, repetitive motions.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm back! No promises about the update schedule being as breakneck as it was in the first act, but fics will be coming out somewhat regularly once again. Thanks for your patience, and keep leaving such lovely comments!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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